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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002975">Shadows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhyanshiva/pseuds/dhyanshiva'>dhyanshiva</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Phoenix [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugging, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, More Slow Dancing, Pride, Puraane Gaane Supremacy, Reminiscing, Slow Dancing, Touch, second chapter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:07:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhyanshiva/pseuds/dhyanshiva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When all hope seems to be dashed to the ground, can Kartik and Aman emerge victorius? Or is this their last night with one another?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Phoenix [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669090</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Opacity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlwithpassion/gifts">girlwithpassion</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello everyone,<br/>This standalone piece diverges slightly from the timeline and course of events in the movie. Hope you enjoy reading it! Do leave a kudos and comment to let me know what you think!<br/>Lots of love,<br/>Dhyan</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kartik shut the door of his room and turned towards the bed, finally allowing the pain and exhaustion to show in his physicality. Memories of beatings and abuse from his father resurfaced in his mind’s eye, and he felt the dam finally break as tears created tracks on his cheeks. Reaching up slowly, he undid the knot of the flag around his neck and let it fall from around his shoulders into a pile on the armchair nearby. He could feel every muscle from his neck to his hamstrings ache in protest and without further resistance, Kartik gave in and fell face first onto the bed, soon falling asleep, despite the turmoil in his mind and heart. The fight had left him. There wasn’t a shadow of doubt left that this was all over.</p><p>A few hours later, he was roused by the sound of a soft yet insistent series of knocks on his door. Turning his head slightly, Kartik opened one eye and saw the brilliant light of the moon greet him in the pitch black of the night, a welcome sight in the despair that enveloped him. The soft shadows it cast across the room gave life to the inanimate objects, making him feel a little less alone. The knocks continued and he summoned up a little strength to get up and answer, not knowing who could possibly have to meet him at this time, pulling on a hoodie on the way. Thankfully, a few hours of stillness permitted a wider range of movement now.</p><p>Kartik had barely grasped the handle and pulled when a force from the outside did the rest of the work and he felt a warm body envelop him, arms wrapped around his torso. He didn’t even need to look to recognise who it was – only one person could ever infuse so much care and love in their touch for Kartik and that was his Aman. Usually, a hug from him was much tighter but Kartik understood the unspoken. Aman didn’t want to cause him any pain – didn’t he know that was impossible? Smiling softly, Kartik returned the embrace and they stood there in the doorway for a few moments, the relief palpable in both their bodies as the pent-up fear and tension slowly ebbed away. Aman stepped away first and Kartik frowned when he heard the shakiness of his voice.</p><p>“K – Kartik, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t bear to see him do that to you and I couldn’t find it in myself to face you afterwards. I just didn’t have the courage –.”</p><p>Whatever he was about to say was cut off abruptly by a palm covering his mouth. Looking up, he met the tired yet still bright gaze of his boyfriend who was shaking his head, refusing to let Aman continue. When Kartik was satisfied that there wouldn’t be more of an unnecessary explanation, he pulled away and rested both forearms on Aman’s shoulders. Making sure that eye contact was made, Kartik sought to clarify the misconception. Softly, while enunciating on each word, he made sure the message.</p><p>“Let’s get one thing clear here. Aman, you have nothing to apologise for. It’s best that you didn’t stay on my account, I wouldn’t be able to take it had anything happened to you. Secondly, I understand, it’s alright. Anyway’ Kartik smiled, trying to bring that beautiful expression onto Aman’s face too ‘you wouldn’t have gained anything, I slept like Kumbhkaran. Third, you’re the strongest person I know! So what if this was a lapse in courage for you? We’re human, it’s not a crime to trip up. What we’re here for, and <em>why</em> we’re here is unexpected, sure, but the way you’re putting up a fight, for <em>us</em>, for yourself, do you know how much <em>courage</em> that takes?”</p><p>By the time he was done saying this, Kartik’s stance had shifted of its own accord and he’d come to be holding Aman in a death grip by his shoulders, expression earnest and pleading. Aman’s heart just couldn’t accommodate any more of this unconditional love. Why couldn’t his family understand this? That which they saw as wrong, a delusion was as pure and blessed as the Ganga that flowed nearby. How dare they? With a resolve he didn’t know he still had, Aman reached across and took his boyfriend’s hand in his own, interlacing their fingers and turning around, stepping outside the room. The request went unsaid, Kartik followed him unquestioningly. When he said he would never leave Aman’s side, he’d meant it. It didn’t make the ordeal of seeing the proceedings for his marriage to Kusum became any easier – if anything, the pain strengthened his resolve. He knew Aman was helpless and today, Shankar Tripathi had almost succeeded in beating the fight out of him too. Almost being the key word. Kartik didn’t know what it was but that nap had relit a spark within him. There was still scope for a miracle. But if things didn’t go as they wanted, then Kartik tried to seek solace in the fact that Aman wouldn’t lose his family – he knew how much these people meant to the love of his life. That being said, just before they’d left his room, Kartik saw the spark in Aman’s eyes too – the new, fiercer kind. That had to mean something, right?</p><p>Kartik had gotten so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realise where Aman had led them to, hands still intertwined. It was a small building that Kartik didn’t recognise but seemed friendly enough. Upon their arrival, Kartik saw a change in Aman – a weight seemed to be lifted off his shoulders. However, he didn’t enter the building, instead going towards the side, merging with the shadows as they climbed a set of stairs, taking them up to the roof. As soon as they reached the top, Kartik recognised where they were and a new warmth flooded through him, his love for the other man making him tear up. Aman loved telling him about this place, his sanctuary. They’d spent countless nights cosied up in the living room talking about nothing of significance and this place had been mentioned quite often. Kartik never thought he’d visit it though – Aman only came here to try and get himself out of a bad place. Well, this predicament certainly qualified as one.</p><p>But what touched Kartik was that he was here with him. Of course, they loved each other beyond definition and comprehension but revealing such an intimate part of yourself is another kind of trust and Kartik was beyond honoured to receive it. Looking around, he saw the space through Aman’s eyes. The tranquillity, a sense of being removed from reality, their proximity to the stars. In short, this was perfect. Kartik tended to get lost in his own thoughts and he realised he’d done it again when a soft cough brought him back to the present. At a low volume, the opening lines of ‘Lag Ja Gale’ began to play into the otherwise silent night. There Aman stood, a few feet away, arm outstretched. Kartik smiled softly and accepted the invitation, taking his hand and a step closer till the tips of their shoes touched. Bringing the other hand to his shoulder, Kartik wrapped his arm around Aman’s waist and they danced in silence. Yet, as they held one another, their grips tightened almost simultaneously as the realisation hit them at the same time. This was probably it. The freedom to do this or anything else would be ripped mercilessly out of their hands after this night and there was nothing either of them could do. Thus, they tried to cherish these last few hours, this closeness, this love as much as they could.</p><p>The chords for the classic began to fade and Kartik took the chance to say those three words which held as much weight now as he did the first time he’d uttered them. Back then, that declaration was the introduction to a beautiful future and now, it was probably a ‘love you’ in lieu of ‘goodbye’. Yet no matter how much it hurt, the words had to be said. But one quick scan of Aman’s face said ‘wait, not yet’ and Kartik complied. He didn’t want to acknowledge the finality, not yet. So, they danced, on and on, through the playlist of songs, different tongues but all speaking the language of love and loss.</p><p>Perhaps an hour so had passed and the daze, the sense of being in their own cocoon faded, bringing the lovers back to reality. Their feet had begun to ache, and they were forced to stop. Kartik in particular was beginning to feel the exhaustion, remnants of pain from his ordeal creeping back into his muscles. Worn down, he took a seat on a lone chair in the corner. Aman stepped forward and came down to crouch in front of him, holding both of Kartik’s hands in his. There were a few beats of silence, then unexpectedly, Kartik’s body began to shake, the dam finally breaking to allow tears to flow unceasingly. Alarmed, Aman’s grip tightened considerably but he didn’t say a word, knowing Kartik needed to let all this hidden pain out – he was finally in a safe enough space to do so.</p><p>“I can’t see the love of my life become someone else’s. I just can’t see you leave me. I know we’ll always be one another’s, <em>soulmates</em>, but in the eyes of the world –” He couldn’t even complete the sentence, he was so overwhelmed. Looking up to meet Aman’s heartbroken visage, Kartik continued, “How do they expect us to be happy, to live life? I’ve become a much better person since I met you, you’re my moon, my stars, my <em>everything</em>. What happens to someone when their universe ends? Doesn’t that version of them cease to exist? Khatamb, na? I love you too much to lose you, I just -.”</p><p>Aman could feel his resolve shattering, the reality that their forever was now just a finite time setting in. Unless some miraculous force of nature turned everything around, it was all out of their hands. Was it really, though? Could he give <em>his</em> everything up? Family was supposed to love you unconditionally, yet with him, it was so clearly not the case. <em>This</em> was worth fighting for. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain. It was his call now – Kartik had fought his battle and it was time for Aman to continue with their war. They wouldn’t lose. Not this, certainly not this, not <em>life itself</em>. He lifted his hands to tilt Kartik’s head up, asking him to make eye contact once more. Smiling sadly, he looked into those beautiful eyes and knew he’d chosen right. Come what may, this had to be done. It was time. Bringing their heads together, he murmured softly, his voice low and unwavering.</p><p>“No Kartik, you won’t lose me because I’m not leaving. This is their last chance. My family are my world, yes, but you mean the same, if not more, to me. If this world won’t accept us, perhaps it’s time to build one of our own?”</p><p>The choked sob that escaped Kartik’s lips and the unbridled joy in his tear glazed eyes was all the confirmation he needed. Swiftly, Aman pulled away and stood up, just as Kartik leapt up and enveloped him in their best hug till date. Laughing deliriously, they clung to one another, the flame of determination and will to triumph burning bright between them. This light was enough to banish any shadows of despair and doubt, once and for all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sunbeam</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It was evident with this admission that Aman was genuinely distraught and it took a few moments for a tentative solution to take shape. Kartik was willing to try anything to dispel the shadows that cast themselves so adamantly over Aman’s mindset.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alright so, today marks one year of my arrival on this ao3 tag. It's been a strange year and it's been an interesting journey from then to now, to say the least. I wanted to do right by myself, conceited though this may sound, and continue from the first part, truly give these two some hope.</p><p>Goodness knows we all need it.</p><p>I'm writing this in light of long having realised that my choice to engage with SMZS was and still is an act of self - care. I've been introduced to so many wonderful people due to this movie and I'm thankful for the same. Looping it back to the note for the first chapter, it's worth recognising, in my books, that writing about these characters has pulled me out of my writer's hiatus. It's been a wonderful reason to retain my creative side.</p><p>Thank you to Sargun for putting up with my updates (and a heck of a lot more) &lt;3</p><p>Warning:</p><p>- mention of religion at two separate points</p><p>Also:</p><p>- This is a bilingual mess. What can I say, some things sound better in Hindi, others in English.<br/>Do bear in mind that Hindi is also my 4th language, so forgive the errors that are no doubt there but I have no idea how to rectify.</p><p>- This is an unexpectedly lengthy update.<br/>Frankly, it was out of my hands.</p><p>Nonetheless, I hope you like it.</p><p>Much love,<br/>Dhyan</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Close to a year had passed since Kartik and Aman’s return to Delhi after the chaotic chain of events in Allahabad. The past few days, as they’d trudged closer to the date, had been laced with anguish and a wholly misplaced fear. On this particular night, 4th September 2019, however, Aman was incredibly tense and after about an hour of watching him struggle to work, Kartik had enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reaching for his phone, he opened up the Spotify application and scrolled through for one of his favourite playlists. Seeing as he hadn’t moved all this time, the abrupt shift had caught Aman’s attention. Kartik looked up to find Aman staring at him, an indecipherable expression on his face. Well, for one, there was a hint of caution, but that underlined practically anything Kartik did, good or bad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Valid, he supposed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kya kar raha hai? Abhi tak resignation letter ka ek bhi draft nahi hai tere paas, mujhe pata hai.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Haan, I know, we’ve only just started but tujhe iss haal main nahi dekh sakta.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kartik watched as Aman’s frown deepened, an eyebrow raised in incredulity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what exactly do you think is the matter?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You still haven’t stopped frowning. If you’re not careful, your face will freeze in that expression. Maana ki tu phir bhi cute lagega mujhe lekin - “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes and? You do realise we have to hand these letters in on Wednesday? Or do you want to continue wearing that stupid costume?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gosh. Kartik swung his legs back over and got to his feet, prompting his husband to do the same. Time to channel his more theatrical side then.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aman. My love. Ab toh sirf 8 baje hai. We have time, surely you know this? You’re acting like tonight’s our last and - “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In his exuberance, flailing arms and all, Kartik had managed to hit the ‘play’ button and the opening line of the first song began to play.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Aman’s expression had been grumpy up until then, the last few words he’d just uttered made him turn positively murderous, stopping Kartik in his tracks. Even that changed, on his registering which song this was. What was it exactly that elicited such a response? It took a few moments for Kartik to catch on and in that time, Aman’s eyes had become teary, turning the moment on its head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Immediately, Kartik was taken back to this time last year. Except today, It was his phone playing the music. They were safe at home, their ceiling with white lights a shoddy replacement for a scattering of stars, frankly. As the track signalled its true beginning, Kartik stepped forward and took Aman’s hand in his, secure, bringing his other hand to rest on his hip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shall we?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shaky nod from Aman, and Kartik’s chest ached as he began to tremble slightly, tears trailing down his cheeks. Thankfully, Kartik had enough strength in him to hold them both and he knew it would have to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were content to just sway in time with the first verse of ‘Lag Ja Gale’ but as they reached the halfway mark, Kartik watched, stunned, as Aman began to sob. The alarm gave way to fear as he wrapped his arms around his husband, feeling his nails dig into his back as Aman held onto him with an uncharacteristic desperation, grip unyielding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair could not have been closer in that moment yet Kartik couldn’t help but wonder what it was about this song that had elicited a reaction of this magnitude.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It appeared not to be just the melancholy of the lyrics, contrasting beautifully with the composition for that in itself would bring a tear to anyone’s eye. No, this agony came from the furthest, carefully concealed parts of Aman’s heart and soul.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was something beyond this moment, this melody.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All Kartik could do was hold his lover as he wept, the pain in his voice reaching through and pulling his own heartstrings taut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was only 15 minutes later that Aman could regain some semblance of composure. Gradually, his breathing evened out and he found that Kartik still held him close. Keeping his eyes shut, Aman focused on the beat of his heart, steady against his ear. A reassurance that he was still here (safe) and not -</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt a kiss being pressed to his hair and pulled away slightly, looking into Kartik’s eyes. Immediately, Kartik sought to brush away the tears on his face, a series of questions mapping themselves across his face. Steps slow, Aman let himself be half - carried back over to Kartik’s seat. He couldn’ t bear to let go, content to sit in his lap, safe in his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wordlessly, Kartik pressed pause in the middle of ‘Tere Liye’. The consequential silence wasn’t uncomfortable, far from it. Kartik knew Aman had been on edge for a few days now, he’d been in a similar state. It’s just that he didn’t know how to begin the conversation they so obviously needed to have. Over the past months, it had felt akin to a rebirth, what with Aakriti giving him Maa’s shawl, with mummy ji’s acceptance and everything else that followed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet, now it was more than obvious, pushed to the forefront, that not all the shadows had been chased away. This moment served to rip away the veil that they’d unwittingly used to hide from this. This pain, this uncertainty, this insecurity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aman’s voice, shaky and unsure, pulled Kartik out of his thoughts and he watched as Kartik took their clasped hands and rested it square over his heart. With broken fragments and heavy pauses, he began to speak and with each word, the ache in Kartik’s chest worsened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d been listening to ‘Lag Ja Gale’ quite often over the past few months, why hadn’t Aman said anything before?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why hadn’t Kartik noticed?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All he knew now however, was that this had to be remedied as soon as possible. Now, preferably.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a beautiful song, pata hai. And it’s never been a problem before, you know. Lekin, jab, jab uss raat isse.. God, I’m so sorry, hold on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take all the time you need.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Karrik felt Aman squeeze him tighter for a moment and he reciprocated in kind. He wasn’t going anywhere. A few deep breaths later, he felt Aman’s heart rate return to baseline.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tujhe yaad hai? That night, when we’d visited that building.. I only ever went there when things felt horribly precarious, like I was standing at a cliff edge, on the verge of a free fall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I - don’t know.. yeh gaana kyun chuna maine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it was that this was the only thing that seemed right, amidst a torrent of wrongs raining upon us. Aur theek hi toh the, woh shabd. We weren’t guaranteed another day, let alone another night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You know I don’t dance, you’re literally a professional and I’ve got two left feet. Phir bhi, I knew nothing else, in that moment, I could see only you. You’re my comfort, my solace. And I know that you turn to dancing or singing when you’re looking for peace.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kartik could sense where he was going with this and a tear trailed down his cheek, unbidden. This had been weighing on Aman, he knew, and in all likelihood, it was because it was this very date last year when they’d been in a completely different state that -</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Weak laughter prompted him to focus on Aman once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ab thodi na aadhi raat ko hum gaana gaa sakte the, hai na?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The joke pulled a shaky laugh out of Kartik too but Aman’s sigh of resignation, his mind clearly in that space once more, was a reminder that this relief was due to hindsight. Kartik watched as he drew patterns across his pink shirt, touch feather light but very much </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tangible, real, grounding him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>them </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the present moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It felt like the end. It’s so beautiful, this song. But to me, this beauty hides the reality of destruction, of defeat. It’s so gentle, remaining in the upper end of a scale for the most part, despite the characters being at such a low emotionally. It was my favourite song for so long, despite or perhaps because of this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I think I’d used this song as a crutch more often than I’d like to admit. So I returned to it once more, knowing you’d understand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You took my hand, aur bhagwaan kasam, I knew then that I couldn’t let you go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How could I even entertain the idea, let alone go through with it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why was I allowing this poetry to act as a prophecy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kartik felt Aman pull away and met his tear filled gaze. Gently, his lover cupped his face and brushed a few stray tears away with his thumb. He turned his head slightly and pressed a soft kiss to Aman’s palm. Pulling his hand away, Aman rested their clasped hands to his chest, square over his heart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tum nahi hote na, toh mujhe ek ajeeb sa stress ho jata hai. Tumhare qarib hota hoon toh hi sukoon milta hai, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>constant </span>
  </em>
  <span>fucking storm in my mind abates. When everything feels hopeless, you’re there to take my hand, help me move forward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’d long realised that you were part of my destiny. You came to be the brightest star in my night sky. The sun that dispels the persistent clouds hanging over me, letting the light through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t bear to succumb to the darkness once more. It’s genuinely as simple as that. I owed it to myself to live my truth, how could I cage myself in a lie? And for a heart that you send racing with everything you do, would that sacrilegious act not be akin to stopping it altogether?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aman’s gaze flickered to his tattoo of its own accord, tracing it lightly. A familiar sensation,  but the expression on his face was reminiscent of a more insecure, unsure Aman, not the man he was now. Hence, the words he uttered took Kartik by surprise, heartbreaking and empowering in one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, na, unke Shakti ke bina Shiv toh - ”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kartik drew him closer in response, understanding why he couldn’t go on, encouraging Aman to rest his head on Kartik’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The lyrics recount all that is good and wonderful and placing it next to the realisation that you’re about to </span>
  <em>
    <span>lose </span>
  </em>
  <span>this very sacred thing, it was my wakeup call, if nothing else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Toh jab abhi maine woh gaana suna na, pata nahi, wahi ghabraahat, that terror even, it came back full force, like a slap in the face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s been a year but I can’t truly trust that we won’t be pulled apart again. That song heralds loss, though the rational part of me knows it’s not the case for us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aman reached up to cup Kartik’s face, prompting the taller man to meet his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He made sure to steady his voice, have his love, his soul know that he meant every damn word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Every sunset is followed by a sunrise. I know this now: what was supposed to be the end was actually a new beginning, an opportunity to begin anew. In this year, so much has changed but I’m so grateful to have you by my side, every step of the way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You may not believe me, but I’m actually glad you inadvertently ruined my favourite shirt that day. It’s a small material loss, negligible to all that I’ve been blessed with over the years.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aman was glad to see the recollection of their first meeting brought a smile to his partner’s face. Only on returning to safer ground could they hope to mend the path ahead, fill the cracks in the pavement, turn on their heels away from the darkness and into the light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This expression of Aman’s was so bright and beautiful that it was startling to see him cave in once more, pensive. Drawing circles on the back of his hand, Kartik waited for the clouds to clear, hoping it was just a passing thought. Minutes passed, the silence becoming increasingly aggravating with each moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kya hua?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aman’s eyes snapped up to meet his, the vacant expression replaced by something close to embarrassment. Kartik waited expectantly, but Aman ducked his head once more, reluctant to look him in the eye. Gently, Kartik tilted his face upwards, imploring silently. Seconds later, the tug of war in Aman’s mind seemed to end and Kartik waited with bated breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Woh.. ab, Allahabad ke baad.. mujhe ek aur shikayat hai iss gaane se. It’d never struck me before, but everything about that night, what we’d been through mere hours ago, it forces me to don a new lens.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kartik’s brow raised of its own accord. Surely what was left to say would be less taxing than this? Then why was it that Aman seemed more hesitant?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dekh, Aman. I can’t read your mind. So please, I know it's troubling you, mujhe bataa.. hum saath mein - “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a solo.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Three words crammed together, muttered through barely parted lips. Kartik had no hope of understanding but tried anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hain? Polo? You want a mint? What does it have to do with the song?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a genuine question, borne of bafflement but it pulled a squeak of laughter from Aman, a soft slap to the chest to boot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nahi, saale, I said solo. I hate that it’s a solo. So far as I remember, Sandhya's the one bringing it to a close, she’s the one giving up, her lover watching on, accepting the end. Accepting it like.. like you and I almost did. Because I - well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I can’t bear to listen to it as yet. It’ll take time for me to let go of this newfound association and rework the whole thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was evident with this admission that Aman was genuinely distraught and it took a few moments for a tentative solution to take shape. Kartik was willing to try anything to dispel the shadows that cast themselves so adamantly over Aman’s mindset. There was no harm in giving it a shot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have an idea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.. hear me out. As per my understanding, there are two key things here, the time and person. That you’ve linked ‘Lag Ja Gale’ to our almost - end and that it’s only Lata ji, a solo.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.. toh kya karein?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I remember, on our second date at the cafe, our conversation steered towards music. Tab hum dono ko inki awaaz, inke gaane pasand hai, yeh baat hui thi.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So.. why don’t we pick a duet each, switch it up a bit?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aman’s agreement came in the form of another question, as it usually did. Kartik couldn’t contain the grin that came onto his face at the sight of the familiar light in his eyes - a mix of curiosity and enthusiasm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s the criteria for making the choice?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Us. We go back and forth, exchange clues about one another or about this relationship. Whoever guesses first gets to.. not format their resignation letter.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The exaggerated face Aman pulled at the prospect of </span>
  <em>
    <span>formatting two letters</span>
  </em>
  <span> for their khadoos boss was comical and Kartik barely held in a smug smile - a large forfeit, but worth it if he could keep Aman engaged in the moment. Keeping his obvious pick at the forefront of his mind, he took the lead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go first. After all, I was the one who spilled coffee on your shirt that day, hai na?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What does that - ”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. I go first, bas. Okay.. tea and pantomimes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A slightly suspicious squint from Aman went woefully ignored. What Kartik did focus on was the way he worried his bottom lip, putting actual thought into this. It was unfairly endearing and if the pair of them weren’t competitive to the bone, Kartik would’ve kissed him then and there. No, there was plenty of time for that after this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve always found your fascination for jasmine flowers and cherry blossom quite endearing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The statement took Kartik aback - he’d only mentioned his favourite flowers </span>
  <em>
    <span>once</span>
  </em>
  <span>, ages ago, it hadn’t come up after that at all - and he had to concentrate to refocus and find his place in the song.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Accha. Your love for the monsoon season and blue umbrellas.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The look of indignation that came onto Aman’s face at the memory of managing to turn his favourite umbrella inside out, permanently too, made Kartik snort in spite of himself. That Aman then chose to take 5 whole minutes to come up with another clue was fear inducing but the gentle smile that came onto his face made Kartik forget his apprehension.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think my favourite feature of yours are your eyes. Hum dono ko pata hai, ki you rely on actual words for communication but I appreciate that your eyes speak more for you than they do. I don’t think you know they’re your greatest strength.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Un mein kahin saare raaz chupe hai and I understand this, I can hazard a guess as to why.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What’s, how shall I say it, disconcerting sometimes, I suppose, how easily you can read me. You’re comfortable with silence, you understand my need for it and still, mere kuch na kehne pe bhi tu kaise sab baatein jaan leta hai, I’ll never understand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s so comforting that you see me for me, and I love this about you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Going by the mild surprise on Aman’s face, it was clear he hadn’t expected to go beyond the first two sentences. Kartik was, most inconveniently, left speechless by the string of compliments. The way Aman avoided the very eyes he’d just been speaking of was a clear indicator he thought Kartik had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>offended </span>
  </em>
  <span>by his admission. The only way the man could do away with the miscommunication was to lean in a press a featherlight kiss to his cheek in gratitude.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What Kartik came up with nearly 10 minutes later - the competitive spirit had not been extinguished as yet - turned the evening on its head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aun - mummy ji’s pink dupatta. Tujhe woh bohaut pasand hai na?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kartik didn’t mean this in jest. On an otherwise ordinary evening soon after he’d moved in with Aman, he’d heard his then boyfriend speak of this garment with an odd combination of fondness and anguish. Of how he sought comfort in it after she’d inadvertently forgotten it for its simplicity, leaving it in her son’s room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This very dupatta had accepted the weight of Aman’s tears, held him in his weakest moments.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dupatta he’d so willingly given Kartik only months later, the latter accepting it all too aware of its significance, the kind of trust Aman had placed in him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, he could see that Aman trusted him the same, if not more, unconditionally so, and being reminded of this made him tear up. All he could do was reach out and squeeze his husband’s hand, Aman, responding in kind, a soft smile on his face. They let the silence linger in the air, comforting and contemplative. Soon enough though, Aman became focused on the matter at hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your grace and the way you carry yourself, it’s admirable. You give me strength and remind me that being kind is a conscious choice I should continue to make.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before you continue, I just want to clarify something. Abhi bhi I don’t know where you’re going with this so.. are you sure it’s not an Asha Bhosle track?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kartik’s wistful, teary eyed visage was transformed immediately, exactly what Aman hoped would happen. The dig was deliberate, he knew it would bring Kartik away from the more emotional thoughts, ones they couldn’t afford to linger on for too long, not tonight. Yes, Kartik’s choice of clue had taken him aback, but what surprised him more (though it likely shouldn’t have), was that Kartik remembered those moments still, valued the trust Aman had placed in (the right place, definitely) him so early on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he’d only gone and done the same, if not more, with trusting Aman to be there for him as he confronted Aakriti Singh. To see their mother’s shawl, faded yet laden with so much emotion, the weight of memories, of family holding the interwoven strands together.. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had shaken Aman to see this hit home for his partner, intrude upon a crevice of his heart that the resilient man had so fiercely guarded for (far too) many years. Over the past year, he’d chanced upon Kartik lingering by the drawer he’d stowed the shawl away on many occasions. Very much aware that it was in there, but too afraid to actually have it in his hands once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If we’re going into the abstract now.. I choose this: your support. I mean, the most ‘public’ instance - they shared a grin at the exaggerated gesture of quote marks - ‘was your attendance at Devika’s final kathak recital, after only 2 months of knowing one another, it meant and still means more than I can ever express.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I’d just gone there by virtue of having known her for so long, lekin you knew how much it would have meant to me for you to just be there, for, well, emotional support.. and as my source of tissues. Two whole boxes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kartik saw the glint in Aman’s eye at the recollection of that memorable evening and couldn’t help but add the last detail, if only to bring that gorgeous smile back onto his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But no, for the purposes of this exercise, I mean this in an </span>
  <em>
    <span>us </span>
  </em>
  <span>way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aman Singh Tripathi. My husband, my chaand taare, my whole damn universe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if snapped back to life out of an inexplicable daze, the man sought to interrupt Kartik’s clue(s) but he wasn’t having any of it. Not now, no sir. Aman’s smile - unwavering and blinding in its affection - alone had disarmed him completely (as it usually did), flinging open the gate and letting all his emotions rush forth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aman’s face flickered between incredulity, surprise and love. Every little thing contributed to the hurricane in his eyes though it abated slightly as he continued.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re my rock, my meaning of home. Iss beghar, anaat insaan ko </span>
  <em>
    <span>tumne </span>
  </em>
  <span>apnaya.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You make me feel like I belong somewhere, if not in the context of the larger world out there, then with you. And that’s more than enough for me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Funnily enough, it took you making the first move and kissing me in the back of that poky little Ola for me to realise that you weren’t an apparition, the product of my wildest dreams. I mean, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, how could all this beauty, this compassion, this love, possibly fit in - ”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aman pulled away abruptly, back ramrod straight, quivering with the intensity of an emotion Kartik couldn’t quite place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tu jaanta bhi hai tu kya keh raha hai? Aur kaise? Woh bhi mere baare mein? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Me</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You.. I know you aren’t fucking with me here but I - </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How, how do you say all this so effortlessly?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All Kartik could do was embrace him once more, taking the feeble punches to his chest in good grace. It wasn’t often that Kartik managed to take his husband by utter surprise and it was further affirmed in the way Aman continued to flounder, clearly at a loss for words as the continuation formed in Kartik’s mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s effortless because it’s all true. It’s because I love you. Aur tu acchi tarah se jaanta hai, I’ll spend the rest of my days doing anything for this love. Before you ask why, I’ll tell you. I’ve known since the day I ran into you that all roads I embarked on led to you, that’s all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the last line, Kartik realised he’d given away his last clue, and a quick glance at Aman gave him his answer too, a consequence of the tears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you too and I’ll love you even more if you’ve actually managed to guess this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s impossible but let’s give it a go. On three.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“3.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“2.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They spoke in unison, and to the smiles that came onto their faces on realising they were both correct, they’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>won, were blinding in their light, chasing away the last of the lingering shadows, making this feel more like home than ever before.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes, that was a cliffhanger.</p><p>I hope the clues were adequate for both songs, I did my best to balance them out between the pair.</p><p>And yes, this was me projecting onto both of them like there's no tomorrow.<br/>Cathartic experience, 10/10 would recommend.</p><p>Now, if you want to yell at me, you know where to find me - please don't leave hate in the comments, much appreciated.</p><p>Thank you for reading,</p><p>Dhyan</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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